Father's Day
by KittyKatz009
Summary: Sometimes you just need to mourn. But often time, tragedy can lead to beautiful moments.


The sound of the phone slamming down on the receiver broke her concentration. Curses and mutters accompanied the uneven thud of feet before the door creaked open, slamming with a force great enough to rattle the windows in her workshop downstairs.

'I wonder what's got Ed so upset now,' she sighed, lifting her goggles as she abandoned her current project. He had been more short-tempered of late, and she wasn't sure what was causing his irritation. She knew better than to try and ask him about it; the last time she brought it up he waved it off as phantom leg pain. The time before that he blamed it on hearing from Mustang even though he made it clear to the older man that he was retired from the Military and wanted nothing to do with whatever political scheme he was cooking up. She couldn't help but to be worried about him. She knew that he was never one to openly share his fears and concerns with her, but a small part of her hoped that that would change since his retirement. Deciding she was at a good stopping point for now, she made her way upstairs to the kitchen. Pinako sat at the table, refilling her pipe while Den lay at her feet.

"What happened, Granny?" she asked as she got herself a glass of water. "When I went downstairs he seemed to be having a great time talking with Al."

"I wish I knew what went through that shrimp's mind, girl," Pinako said, taking a puff off her pipe. "It was going fine 'til the end, then he got all worked up. It sounded like Al was scolding him about something. Kept muttering something about going to the grave as he was storming out of here." The worry came back; he had been going to the cemetery more and more recently. She had thought that he had let go of the guilt he had burdened himself with in regards to his mother, but his actions were seeming to prove otherwise.

"I guess I'm going to go to the cemetery then," she sighed, placing the glass on the counter. Pinako's eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at her granddaughter.

"Girl, have you talked to him yet?" she asked, and Winry paled slightly.

"N-no I haven't yet. I've been meaning to, but he has just been so moody lately," she rattled, wishing that the conversation would just end already.

"You're both moody all the time, that's no excuse. But you need to talk to him sooner rather than later."

"I know Granny. I will, soon," she said, fiddling with her thumbs.

"You better. Now go fetch him. He won't be of any use if he gets heat stroke standing out there for hours," she said, shooing her out of the kitchen. "Give your father regards while you are there, too."

"Okay, I will," she called back, brushing off the last statement. She always visited her parents' graves whenever she made the trek to the cemetery, so it was odd that Granny would remind her to. She fanned herself in a vain attempt to cool herself; summers in Resembool were sweltering, even in the beginning. She hoped that she would be able to convince him to come home quickly because this heat was unbearable. It wasn't long before she arrived at the gates of the cemetery. Even from the entrance she could see him sitting in front of the stones marked with his parents' names. She approached him hesitantly; what should she say to him? She had no idea what even made him upset, yet here she was, ready to comfort him. She stood behind him, the wind rustling her hair as she stood there in silence.

"You didn't have to come here," he murmured, eyes trained on the tombstones. His fingers were absentmindedly etching transmutation circles into the dirt and she felt a lump form in her throat. She could hear the tension in his voice and she could only imagine what was making him so upset.

"I wanted to," she whispered as she took a seat next to him. He hummed in acknowledgement but made no move to face her. She cautiously placed her hand on top of his and he accepted, his fingers twisting up to intertwine with hers. They sat there a while longer, the only sound that could be heard was their breathing and the rustling of the small breeze in the leaves. She knew better than to push him into talking. He would let her know what was on his mind when he was ready, however long that may take.

"It's really not fair," he started after a while and she turned to look at him.

"What's not fair Ed?" she asked, squeezing his hand softly.

"This," he said, gesturing their joined hands at Hoenheim's tombstone. "I mean, he never was an outstanding father, by any means. And I never could forgive him for running out on us, even if it was to save all of Amestris. But right when I finally have a chance to at least try and make amends with the man, he dies," he rushed out, and Winry could only blink in surprise. This entire time, she thought he was mourning over his mother.

"What brought this on Ed?" she asked. She knew how much it hurt to lose her father, and she was close to him, so she could understand the pain he was in. Still, it was surprising to her, considering that all he ever did as they were growing up was gripe about how much he hated his father. He blinked at her before laughing.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe that it's Father's Day and I'm actually missing the bastard," he said with a small smile, ignoring the tears forming in his eyes.

"Father's Day?" Winry repeated, stunned.

"Yeah. Al was very persistent on the phone, griping at me about not having gone to visit him yet. Not my fault that I didn't have the best relationship with him," he frowned.

'How could I have forgotten it was Father's day? No wonder he was coming here every day,' she thought, amazed at herself for not realizing that that day was already upon them. Now Granny's words about her father made sense. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't realize that Edward was staring at her.

"Uh Win, you okay?" he asked, concern tinting his voice as he poked her shoulder softly.

"Of course, silly," she laughed, swatting his hand away. While it was sad, she was happy that the source of his sour mood came from mourning Hoenheim. That she knew how to deal with. "Happy Father's day, Ed," she whispered without thinking and she felt him stiffen.

"Wh-what did you just say?" he asked, eyes wide. Her own eyes widened in surprise as she realized what she had just said. He looked at her expectantly and she could feel his pulse quicken from where their hands were connected.

"Uh, I said Happy Father's Day. I'm, um, pregnant," she offered meekly. This wasn't how she expected to tell him, but then again, nothing ever went according to expectations for them, given how he proposed to her. She bit her lip as she watched his face carefully. His eyes flitted between her face and her stomach and she could see all the different emotions cross his features. Surprise, anxiety, fear, before finally settling on joy. A giant grin split on his face and she let out a breath that she didn't realize she was holding.

"A father, huh? That sounds amazing," he yelled as he pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. She laughed, wrapping her arms around him. Relief flooded her; she had been anxious to tell him the news, but she was glad that he was just as happy as she was. He pulled away and she could see tears leaking down his face, yet she knew this time that they were ones of joy rather than grief. He pulled her into his side as they faced Trisha and Hoenheim's tombstones once again.

"Mom, Dad, can you believe it? I'm going to be a dad!" he exclaimed and she could only smile. She knew they were both young, but as long as they had each other, they would be okay. And nothing could make her happier.


End file.
